In terms of time, concertgoers at Saturday afternoon's two-and-a-half-hour Orlando Philharmonic program certainly got their money's worth.

But patrons who enjoy the musical artistry of the Philharmonic surely still felt shortchanged.

For in "An American Salute," the focus seemed everywhere but on the orchestra itself. Audience members were encouraged to sing along or get up and dance. Conductor Albert George Schram called out to the audience during musical numbers — "So far, so good!" he exclaimed at one point — and kept up a jokey patter throughout the concert.

Even the musicians seemed unsure of this approach. During a good-natured sing-along for such oldies as "Rawhide" and "Louie, Louie," most didn't even crack a smile. To be fair, they appeared more amused when audience members shimmied to music from the "Austin Powers" movies.

By far, the most egregious hullabaloo took place during Tchaikovsky's usually stirring "1812 Overture," in which concertgoers were given brown paper lunch bags to inflate and "pop," simulating the noise of the cannon fire that traditionally accompanies the piece.

Taking a magnificent piece of music — which commemorates the deaths of thousands in wartime — and reducing it to the silliness of a 5-year-old's birthday-party game is ridiculous at best, in shockingly poor taste at worst.

Maestro Schram said he thought Tchaikovsky would be pleased; I think that's unlikely.

The paper-bag nonsense wasn't even necessary: Smartly dressed Orlando Police officers performed a striking rifle salute during the piece.

There were other appealing moments sharply executed throughout the concert. In "Fantasia on the Star-Spangled Banner," the heart leapt when among the strings, the familiar anthem was first heard from a warm brass.

The rat-a-tat opening of "American Salute" leads into the tune of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," and the orchestra showed masterful control of that piece's abrupt changes in volume. Plucked harp strings and ringing glockenspiel strikes delightfully accented the main theme.

And the orchestra did illustrate how a sense of fun can augment the music, not detract from it. During a "Tribute to Irving Berlin" medley, some spiffy musician footwork played off the beat in "Puttin' on the Ritz." Principal percussionist Brian Jordan performed a nifty solo on the spoons — that's right, the spoons.

"It's a lost art," Schram quipped.

The heart of the program was a first-time collaboration between the Philharmonic and the Orlando Gay Chorus, led by artistic director Jim Brown, and this choral segment provided the most thrilling moments.

The orchestra at times seemed oblivious to the choir — a reduction in volume would have balanced things out better. But on the whole, the chorus burst forth with rousing force. The highest sopranos floated over the lower voices, never shrill, with the harmonies well-blended and clear.

"Battle Hymn of the Republic" was a shining example of the best in choral singing: In changing rhythms, dynamics and intensity, the chorus communicated every nuance of the lyrics as the song moves from awe to hope to righteous determination.